If Cars Could Talk
by VBoss
Summary: EDIT: THIS STORY HAS BEEN MOVED TO FICTIONPRESS . COM. IF YOU WANT TO VIEW IT THERE, THE NAME IS THE SAME. I HAVE BEEN UPDATING IT RECENTLY AS WELL This is my story If Cars Could Talk. All the characters are mine; feel free to pm me about using them. I would really appreciate it. There are more chapters to come as well as a second book. Please review! It'd mean a lot to me.
1. Chapter 1

If Cars Could Talk

Chapter 1: Life at the Dealership

Vanne Boss (a.k.a VB) had always been a high-strung, energetic, and noisy young vehicle, but he never would've guessed that it was to the extent where his owner of two years would give up on him. But, back to the dealership it was on that cold February night. From his parking lot at the Ford dealership, miles away from where him and his owner used to live in Tampa, Florida, VB watched his owner drive away with a brand new 2013 Ford E-250 van.

"He's just taking that 250 out for a test drive," VB told an old, 2004 Ford Explorer parked next to him.

"You only wish," replied the Explorer. "I had that same thought when my owner took me here, young fellow. But I've been sitting behind the dealership in this same parking lot for almost two years now. My owners gave up on me, too."

"B-but why?" VB asked, stammering. "Why replace a perfectly good 2011 Ford E-350 like me with an E-250?"

"I've been there, young van," said the Explorer. "But I was replaced with the worst of all- a Chevrolet Traverse."

VB gasped. Fords and Chevys- their rivalry went far back. For a Ford to be replaced with a Chevy under any circumstance was just plain dumb.

"Things often happen without reason," the Explorer said. "I never understood either when I was your age. Trust me, I've seen many cars come and go. But, nobody seems to want me. The workers sometimes talk about sending every vehicle from the oldest they have to the 2011s straight to the auction."

"I don't wanna go to auction!" VB wailed.

"Shush up, young van. Somebody will probably pick you. And, you better hope they do while you're still young. We should both get some rest now."

VB could not rest. Despite what the Explorer told him, he decided his theory was better: His owner was simply trying out the new van and would be back for him in the morning. After that, he finally fell asleep.

At opening time the next morning, one of the workers came to him with _his_ keys. What was somebody who wasn't his owner doing with his keys? Was the Explorer right? Had he been sold? Just as he was about to ask, he saw that the Ford Explorer was gone! And so were all the other cars that had been there the night before!

"NOOO!" he yelled.

"Shut up!" snapped the worker, hitting the unlock button on VB's keys.

"B-but the Explorer and the other cars, where did they-"

"Shut up, van!" he yelled again. "You know, we don't mind sending a trashy van like you to the scrapyard."

VB immediately kept silent. Most of the other cars had probably gone out to the auction, and that was bad enough, but he would rather be at the auction than a scrapyard.

The worker opened every door on VB, removing any paper or garbage that his old owner had left behind. He was soon joined by two more men, who vacuumed every crumb out of VB.

"Can you guys be done now?" urged VB. "I wanna get a chance to actually talk to some vans around here."

"No, we cannot be done!" barked a worker. "Your owner must have mistaken you for a dumpster. I'm not surprised. You new Ford vans look uglier than the 2002s!"

"BE QUIET!" yelled VB.

"I'm guessing somebody wants to go to the scrapyard," a worker taunted, once again leaving the obnoxious van silent.

Once the workers were done vacuuming VB, they pressed the button near the driver's seat that popped his hood. They tried to get it open, but it was stuck.

"It seems that the cord for the hood is loose," said a man.

"I can see that," another replied. "We'll just have to pry the hood open."

"NO!" yelled VB.

"No what?" a worker asked.

"DON'T PRY OPEN MY HOOD!"

"Scrapyard," he threatened, leaving VB quiet.

Once the men were done looking at VB, they confirmed that he was in proper driving condition.

"The only issue is the hood and it isn't a challenging problem. Or something we need to worry about," said one of the men.

"Yeah, plus three of the tires were replaced, which I guess is a good thing," another man said. Then, they left VB alone.

"That's right, poop-faces, leave," VB muttered, glad the men hadn't heard his insult.

"Do you know what trouble you should be in, van?" asked a sporty-looking, dark blue 2012 Hyundai Elantra parked near him. "The workers are right. You are a trash-pit of a van. In fact, all vans are inferior vehicles. Unless they're minivans."

"Are you kidding me?" shouted VB. "Minivans are poop! They aren't _real_ vans!"

"Watch your big mouth, Ford," she said. "So, what's your name? I'm Eloise."

"VB!" he yelled, still upset with the small sedan.

"VB? How is that a name? Oh, never mind. So, lemme guess- you're moody because you're going out to the auction with the others?"

"I'm not moody!" he snapped. "The only word to describe how I feel right now is one I shouldn't say in front of somebody younger than me."

"Okay, so, to put it lightly, you're ticked. But why? The auction's not so bad."

"I'm mad because my owner sold me. For no reason!"

VB then caught sight of a worker walking towards him with his keys.

"Oh, no," he said. "Do you think I'm off to the auction?"

"Maybe," Eloise replied. "But they're probably just taking you up front."

The man unlocked VB's door, hopped inside, and started up his engine.

"Don't take me to the scrapyard!" VB shouted.

"Chill, van," he said. "You're just going up front."

"Does that mean I get to run over other cars maybe?" VB asked.

"No, van. I've no idea what you're talking about. No wonder your owner sold you."

Time went by fast. Soon, a whole month had passed, and March warmed things up a bit. VB had grown used to boring life at the dealership. He watched cars come and go, just as the Explorer had said. In a very short time, somebody traded in their old 2007 Ford Focus for Eloise, the Hyundai Elantra. VB could only sit in the parking lot, wishing some people would hurry up and buy him.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: A Family in Need

By the end of March, VB felt almost certain that, one of these days, he'd be taken right to the auction. He sighed. It had to be better than sitting in a parking lot day in and day out. He didn't even understand what an auction was.

One night, as the sun was beginning to set, VB watched a 2002 GMC Yukon XL, colored dark green, pull into the dealership. The mean-looking SUV parked not far from VB.

"Hey, poop!" VB hollered. "Are you getting replaced?"

"If I could drive over there right now and run you over, I would!" shouted the Yukon. "Vans are the worst!"

"Why, poop-face?" VB yelled back.

"'Cause I'm getting replaced by one, potty-mouth, that's why. My owners came right over here to buy a van 'cause I wasn't enough for 'em!"

"I didn't get surprised when you said that. I think GMC's are poop!"

"Shut up! The name's Jimmy."

"That's a poop name!"

Suddenly, a thought entered VB's engine. Whatever Jimmy yelled back to him, he didn't hear. He had remembered Jimmy saying his owners had come here to buy a van. Was today his big day?

"YES!" VB yelled.

"Why are you screamin'?" Jimmy grumped.

"Because your owners might actually kind of maybe wanna buy MEEE!"

Jimmy was too angry for words. He couldn't imagine his owners ever replacing him with a van as horrible as this. Jimmy wasn't exactly happy with his owners right now, but one thing was for sure: even they were far too good for this stupid van. Could his people, would his people really be dumb enough to buy this van? Envy built up in his engine. Jimmy was more jealous than ever. There were no words to describe his anger.

Rattling the thoughts from his engine, Jimmy realized that the van next to him was now singing and rejoicing at the top of his voice. Why, out of the dozens of vans here, would his owners pick this one? He began to feel better when he imagined the discouraged, melancholy look in the van's headlights when he wasn't chosen. Jimmy chuckled to himself. He decided to get this van's hopes up so he would be even more disheartened when the people drove away with another van.

"You're right, van," said Jimmy. "I'm sure they'll pick you."

"I know, poop, it's gonna be AWESOME!" shouted VB. "It's the BESTEST thing ever! Ha ha, poop GMC!"

Jimmy tried his best to let the insults roll off him, and the only thing that allowed him to do that was the image in his mind of the sad van, crying his headlights out until his tears froze to them.

In not long, the SUV watched his owner and his owner's oldest son leave the Ford building with a worker. They walked straight to VB. The van remained relatively silent as they looked him over, not wanting to give them a bad first impression. It took a little while, but soon, the people decided that this was the van for them. As they went back into the building to settle things, VB felt as if he would burst with excitement.

"Told you, GMC!" he yelled as soon as the people were out of earshot. "I knew it!"

Jimmy was more angry than ever. His owners really _were_ that dumb!

"Oh, you pathetic, ridiculous, ugly van!" he yelled. "The right place for you is the scrapyard, much less here!"

"Well now you can sit at the Ford dealership, GMC. Nobody comes to a Ford dealer to buy a General Motors car, whether its a Chevy, GMC, Cadillac, Buick, or whatever else."

Frustrated, Jimmy suddenly thought of an idea to frighten the van.

"I'm actually glad to be here," he said.

"Why, because your grateful to serve Ford Motor Company even though you're not worthy of being in their presence and it's an insult to-"

"No, idiot!" Jimmy snapped. "It's because I'd rather be at a scrapyard than with those people."

"Why?" VB asked.

"Oh, you don't know?"

"Of course not. Tell me."

"Well, they're the worst owners you can get. Wanna know what they did to me?" He didn't wait for VB's reply. "They got nails and intentionally scraped up my paintwork. They created a slow leak in my back left tire. They used a hammer to dent my passenger door so much that, even if they tried, they couldn't pop the dent out."

"You lying GMC!" VB shouted. "You're tires look fine, and your doors are fine, and your paintwork is fine."

"On the other side of me, idiot!" Jimmy scowled. "You can't see them there from where you are, but it's terrible. And they spoke of smashing both my headlights before they took me here."

"You lying poop-face," said VB. "I know that's not true." He was more than compelled to believe only what he wanted to believe, and sometimes, such as right now, it helped him out. "Now I know why your owners selded you! 'Cause you lie!"

"They sold me for one reason, van," said Jimmy. "Another child. There are seven now and I only have enough space for six in the back. Not enough for those jerks."

"Well, Jimmy poop-face, I have enough room for twelve people, two in the front and ten in the back!"

"Shut up!" Jimmy interrupted. "Here they come."

Jimmy complained only subtly as the people removed all their belongings from him and put them into VB, car seats included. Although the van was quiet, his tires felt like they'd burst with anticipation to be out on the open road once more.

Soon after, the people went back into the building.

"See, GMC, told you they wouldn't think I was annoying!" VB yelled.

"Well, they haven't heard your ridiculous voice yet. They'd feel differently if they did. I'm sure of it."

"You're a poop, Jimmy!"

Feeling tired, Jimmy tried to ignore the van's insults. He tried but he couldn't. All he could hear was VB hollering a few parking lots away. It was the worst yelling he'd ever heard.

"Nobody's listening to you," Jimmy grumbled. "So shut up!"

 _"_ _I'm_ listening to me," said VB. "Ha ha, you were wrong, poop-face!"

"Oh, God," Jimmy moaned. "They better get this van outta here _fast._ I've never listened to such a mentally annoying vehicle in all my life."

"I've never sawn such an ugly-colored vehicle in all my life," VB retorted sharply. "You're all poop green!"

"First of all, it's _seen_ not _sawn._ Secondly, it's called _forest_ green you idiot. And it looks much better than your blinding white. Oh, I hate vans."

In about two more hours, VB was finally brought home. He remained vocally silent for the whole trip, just in case what Jimmy said about his voice being annoying was right. He could just tell that he'd be with this family for many more years to come.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: Adjusting to a New Life

VB really enjoyed his new life with his new owners and the seven kids. He was taken to work almost every day, and he liked the long ride. His new owners removed his smiley face bumper sticker, which he'd never liked anyways, and thy kept his Bay State Ford sticker, which he'd received at the dealership.

There was a man who lived downstairs from where VB's owners lived. They owned a white 2004 Ford F-150 who said he preferred Jimmy's company to VB's any day. And, like Jimmy, the Ford truck called VB names. Things like annoying van, potty-mouth, rust-bucket, grime-grill, and tread-head were among them.

The truck complained to his owner constantly.

"Please take me far away from here," he'd say. "It's the van. He's singing again. How can anybody live with him? He's so annoying!"

Whenever the truck complained, or whenever the truck's owner was around, VB didn't say a thing, which made the man think that maybe his truck was going crazy.

"Your owner thinks you've gone crazy in the engine, poop!" VB teased one afternoon. "Funny!"

"VB," said the truck. "Just listen to yourself right now. You're absolutely crazy! If my engine has gone crazy, then it's entirely your fault, because you have made me this way! One of these days, you're going to kill me! My engine will go out, and I simply won't start again!"

"That's okay," said VB. "You can just go to Auto Zone or something."

"You make me wish my engine would go out," the truck complained. "Honestly, Vanne, you make me want to drive myself straight through this building!"

"I wish I could do that, too," said VB. "I think it's so cool! I could run over all kinds of smashy-bashy things!"

"VB, you make me crazy!" screamed the truck. "You are _NOT RIGHT_!"

"Cool, you can yell and scream too. We can be buddies! It's okay if you call me a rust-bucket sometimes. We can yell together. YAYYY!"

"No, VB, no no no! I don't want to yell and scream with you. I'm not your buddy, I want you gone!"

Hearing only what he wanted to hear, VB paid no attention to the truck's complaints.

Still more time went by. VB enjoyed the many trips and outings he and his family went on. Apart from going to work, he occasionally visited his owner's parents and his owner's wife's parents. He liked to talk to the other cars that were there, although they weren't the nicest to him. His owner's mom had a black 2005 Hyundai Elantra. She either scolded him for silly things, like parking crooked or having splatters of mud on his fenders, or couldn't stop obsessing over how cute he was although he was easily over twice her size.

VB's owner's stepfather had a navy blue 2001 Ford F-150. Apart from a crappy Toyota Tundra near VB's driveway, and Jimmy, this was the worst vehicle VB had ever spoken to. He said rude things to VB because he thought he was being funny, but really, he was just being dumb. But, when the truck got really angry, he said things even worse than what Jimmy and the F-150 at home sad to him. They were words VB knew he shouldn't repeat.

When VB could get the upper tire, he used as many chances as possible to tease the old truck.

"I'd ram you if I could, stinky-bumper!" VB shouted on one of the visits.

"Jimmy was better than you," scoffed the truck. "And to think you're a Ford, just like I am!"

Often, as they argued, the old Elantra, Henrietta, would try her best to settle things, but she didn't do a very good job of it.

"Would you two shut up and let me get some rest?" she scolded. "What a bunch of immature brats! Fords like you should get along more."

"Oh, trust me, I can get along with cars just fine," VB retorted. "But not when they're poop-faces like him!"

"Oh, shut up!" yelled the F-150. "Where did that insult even come from?"

Then, another argument would be started. Overall, though, VB was happy with these trips, mainly because he knew he was being helpful to the family.

He also would take occasional visits to his owner's wife's parents' house. They owned a 2004 Nissan Xterra and a 2013 Jeep Wrangler Sport. The Xterra, a female named Terry, was a brownish-gray SUV. The Jeep, named Kodak, was bright white with two doors and big, beefy tires. His spare tire, like those on all Jeeps, was mounted to his trunk, and, the cover of the spare tire had a picture of a grizzly bear on it. The two of them were nice to VB, although the Xterra was sometimes crabby.

"Hey!" VB hollered on one of the visits. "Do I look like a Cadillac to you or what?"

"Huh?" asked the Xterra.

"You were staring at me!" VB said, laughing.

"Oh, sorry about that," replied the Xterra, embarrassed. "I can't move without my owner, you know."

"Don't make her angry," Kodak told VB quietly. "She might interfere next time she's driven." He laughed to show he was only joking, but most cars took interfering while their owner was driving them very seriously.

Interfering was one of the worst things a vehicle could do, and was never necessary unless they were about to get into an accident or something of that aspect. Interfering was a difficult thing for a vehicle to do anyway, because, when a car's key was placed into them, it usually rendered their ability to move without their owner helping. Most cars did come with an extra key they were born with that allowed them to drive by themselves, but it was usually taken away by the time they went to the dealership, and, if not, then by their owners. VB, unlike most cars, still had his so-called birth key stashed in a hidden compartment in his glove box.

A few minutes later, VB yelled at Terry again. "Hey, how come your headlights are so circley?" he asked teasingly.

"I don't know," replied Terry. "Why are yours so square-y?"

"Don't tease me, I'm bigger than you," said VB. "I've got a V8 engine, beat that with your 4-cylinder!"

"It's a V6, not a 4-cylinder," said Terry.

"But still I've got two more than you."

The Nissan scoffed, ignoring the young van.

The night wore on the same way until VB's owners left the house and drove him home. Most of his visits were this way, but teasing the other cars never ceased to entertain him.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Out With the Old, in With the New

When summer turned into fall, the white F-150 who VB was living with was packed up by his owner so he could leave. And, he was overjoyed to be doing so.

"My owner's moving out!" he yelled. "The best thing that could have happened to me!"

"But who will I talk with?" VB whined.

"Tom, the old Toyota Tundra next door."

"But he's mental!" the van complained.

"I know, perfect match for you, ha?"

It wasn't long before the truck's owner loaded him with the last of his stuff and he left.

Now, besides VB, the only cars who came around regularly were the two old lady cars whose owners worked at a beauty shop which was connected to VB's owners' house. One of them was Henrietta, VB's owner's mom's car, and the other was VB's owner's aunt's car, an ugly silver 2004 Saturn Ion.

When VB wasn't at work, he sat at home with two old ladies who didn't understand or care for any of his jokes, much less anything he said. The only male car who lived nearby was the engine-crazed Toyota Tundra next door, who VB never spoke to except to tease anyway.

As the year 2013 came to a close, and January rolled in, it began to snow. One day that VB's owner stayed home from work a very dark gray, almost black 2010 Hyundai Santa Fe pulled in. He was a mid-sized SUV.

"Who the poop are you?" VB demanded when the SUV's owner walked in.

"My owner might be moving into the apartment downstairs," explained the Santa Fe. "He's come to check it out."

VB decided not to call this vehicle a poop; he sounded nice enough.

"My owner lives upstairs," VB explained. "I go to work with him almost every day, and, in spring and summer, his wife and the kids take me to beaches and parks and cemeteries and stuff."

"When did they buy you?" asked the Santa Fe.

"Only a couple of months ago, in March," said VB. "My owners bought me because they have seven kids and their other car couldn't hold them all."

"Wow! Seven?" the SUV exclaimed. "Doesn't it get kind of...annoying...with all those kids around?"

"Not really," answered VB. "It's fun. What's your name?"

"I'm Matt," he replied. "What about you?"

"My name's Vanne, but you can call me VB."

"Okay," said Matt. "Nice to meet you...VB."

"When did your owner buy you?" asked VB.

"Back in 2012," Matt replied.

"Why don't you like kids?"

"I do," answered Matt. "I just figured it must get annoying with so many of them around all the time. I'm only used to carrying my owner and his dog."

"You have a dog?" VB asked.

"Yeah."

"Doesn't the dog bounce your shocks?"

"No...what do you mean?" asked Matt.

"Aren't dogs really hyper and bouncy?"

"And I thought kids were hyper! No, not my dog. She's old."

"My imaginary dog's old too," said VB.

"I..maginary dog?" asked Matt, confused.

"Yeah, I made her up just now," VB explained. "And she's blue."

"Well, I've never seen a blue dog before," Matt answered.

"Oh, well, she's...what color is your dog?"

"She's...black..."

"My dog is black too."

"Okay." Matt was silent. Was it just him or was this van a little...neurotic? _Never mind,_ he told himself.

"Are you moving in?" questioned VB.

"I said _maybe,_ not definitely. I hope so, anyways. Driving from place to place really makes a car's tires ache."

"Not me, I like driving. I go to work all the time, and it's a whole hour away. In summer, my owners drove me to New Hampshire, and that made my tires _and_ my engine ache."

"I can imagine it would," Matt muttered.

"Matt," said VB. "I want you to move in. I would like that."

"Okay, VB," replied Matt. "I'd like to move in, too."

In a short time, Matt and his owner left. Matt's owner had made one decision: He was moving in.

So, over the next few weeks, Matt came and went a lot. He brought over all of his owner's furniture, appliances, and supplies. One time, he even brought the dog along too.

While Matt's owner was inside, fixing things and setting things up, VB got to know the SUV better. He spoke to him anytime he came over and VB was around. They got to know each other well, and became good friends.

One evening, less than two months later, VB came home from work rather glum.

"What's the matter, VB?" questioned Matt, who had just recently moved in.

"Nothing," VB muttered.

"Come on, Vanne, you can tell me," prompted Matt.

"Okay fine," he mumbled. "I had this friend, and now she's not my friend!" VB blurted.

"What kind of friend?" asked Matt, although he was quite sure he already knew the answer.

"You know," answered VB. "A... girlfriend."

"Oh, I see," Matt muttered. "What kind of car?"  
"A Chevy Express van," responded VB. "You know, like my mom's friend Devan who lives up the street, just a lot younger."

"Look VB," said Matt. "I know it sounds weird, but vans and other vans don't usually go together well as a couple. Neither do Fords and Chevys. They hate each other."

"You're not a van! Or a Ford! How should you know? Besides, my mom is a van and my dad is a cutaway bus-van. They go together just fine!"

"There are exceptions. Plus, your dad isn't even a real van. No offense."

"How dare you say that? My dad is the realest-"

"Sorry, VB, but you said he was a cutaway bus. Right?"

"Yes. But he's still real."

"So, VB, let's get back to your girlfriend. I wouldn't take it so hard if I was you. You're only young. Trust me, when you do find the car for you, you won't regret waiting."

"Don't you mean when I find the _van_ for me?"

"Yeah. Whatever."

"I couldn't be with a dinky little car, Matt."

"You never know," Matt replied.

"Yes I do."

"Okay, okay."

"Sorry Matt. I'm just frustrated."

"Don't worry. I understand." He paused. "So," he continued. "Why did the van split up with you?"

"She came up with a bunch of excuses just because she likes some other truck better. She went on about how I should change my brake fluid, and replace my belts."

"You seem to run good to me, VB," Matt muttered.

"Well, Emily doesn't think so. She told me I need some w-d40 on my rear diff."

"Ignore the rust-bucket, VB," Matt said. "If you know what's right and true, don't pay attention to what other cars think about you."

"I'll try to ignore her next time I go to work. That's tomorrow, actually."

"Don't worry," Matt said. "Ignore her and you'll be fine."

"She's with a different truck now," VB went on. "An F-250 who's black and lifted."

"Who cares?"

"Not me. I'm gonna show that truck who's the boss tomorrow."

"You won't...interfere...will you?"

"I'm only gonna talk to him."

"Okay. Just don't send him bouncing out of his shocks with anger. Who knows what he could do to you? He might interfere."

"Don't worry, Matt. Everything's under control. I'm going to get some sleep now."

"Okay, VB."

VB went to sleep without a problem, but Matt stayed up a little while. Was it true that all VB would do was speak to the truck? Would the van, as young and boisterous as he was, interfere while his owner was driving, and kill, not only his owner, but maybe himself too? A memory came back to Matt of something VB had said to him shortly after he first moved in. He had explained with enthusiasm how much he loved smashing things and running things over. He had also talked about the kids putting old toys they no longer cared about under his tires. One, he had even told Matt that he had almost interfered and turned straight into a gas station while his owner was driving him because of how hungry he was. Would VB interfere for revenge and go smashing right into the truck who had stolen his girl? Matt understood how oblivious VB to the dangers of interference, at his careless and young age. He decided to have a word with the van early tomorrow morning, before he left to work. Maybe he could make VB understand that smashing could only go as far as little toys under his tires, and anything more could end in serious trouble for him and his owner.

Finally feeling better, Matt managed to fall into a restless sleep.

Suddenly, he was back in time to yesterday night, talking to VB.

"You won't...interfere...will you?" Matt found himself saying again.

"I'm only gonna talk to him," was VB's odd reply.

He had never told Matt that he wouldn't interfere! He hadn't even answered Matt's question. Matt tried to warn VB, but he could not speak. _Don't you know the dangers of interference, you stupid young van?_ He wanted to shout, _If you try to hit the truck, you'll smash yourself! You'll injure your owner, or worse, kill him! Listen to me, VB, I know you can hear me!_

Suddenly, Matt awoke to the sound of an engine starting up. He realized that

it was morning, and VB was already leaving for work!

 _It's too late now,_ thought Matt as the van drove forward slowly. VB flashed his headlights at Matt before he left. Matt remained still, watching the final puffs of exhaust rise into the air. Was that the last he would ever see of VB?


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: VB vs Brad

When VB finally arrived at work, Emily, the Chevy Express (his ex-girlfriend) and her boyfriend Brad the Ford F-250 hadn't arrived yet. Only his friend, Ethan, a 2007 Ford Escape who VB often parked with, had arrived. The Escape, a small SUV, was colored navy blue. Apart from a few random cars who VB didn't know, nobody else was there.

"Do you know if Brad's coming in today?" VB asked Ethan.

"Yeah," said Ethan. "He'll be here in another hour. Why?"

"No reason."

"Look, Vanne, I know about you and Emily," said Ethan. "And I'm sorry. It is what it is. But, you don't expect to mess with Brad, do you?"

"I was only wondering," VB mumbled. "Besides, I don't know why a van would pick a truck over another van. I just don't understand!"

"Haven't you heard about vans?" asked Ethan. "They argue a lot. They just don't get along well as a couple."

"Now you, too? I've been told that enough, and I know it isn't true. I'd choose a van over any car or SUV!"

"Cool your pistons, Vanne. I'm not telling you how to lead your life, I'm only giving you advice. It doesn't affect me whether you follow it or not."

"Well, I won't. That's dumb advice."

"Okay, then."

Within the next hour, VB and Ethan discussed things that didn't start arguments. Before they knew it, Brad arrived, followed minutes later by Emily.

"Do you have to park right next to me?" VB asked when Brad's owner left.

"It's not my choice where I park. What do you want me to do — interfere?" Brad paused, waiting for VB to reply. When he didn't answer, Brad continued, "You still upset about your girl? 'Cause she's my girl now."

"Shut it!"

"You _are_ still upset!" Brad laughed.

"Get your bumper out of my business," VB retorted sharply. "There's no room in my life for rust-buckets like you!"

"Alright, alright, dirty mouth. Geez." He paused. "Vans..." he muttered. "And I don't mean _you_ Emily. I mean this van."

Emily, being rather shy, only mumbled her agreement.

VB, on the other tire, didn't want to give Brad the satisfaction of seeing him upset. He refused to show any feelings, and just stared straight ahead blankly and mutely. It wasn't long before an overbearing silence began to take over, and, to VB, even the hushed whispers of Emily and Brad sounded like a Mustang on a racetrack. The sounds of their voices scraped painfully against VB's side mirrors, penetrating deep into his engine.

"Hey, Vanne!" snapped Ethan, breaking VB out of his trance. "You alright? You seem a little...lost...no?"

"No, no, Ethan, I'm fine," VB quickly explained. "I was only...thinking."

"Okay, just checking on you." Ethan paused. "You know, Vanne, you should calm down. You're trembling like a '77 Chevy pickup. If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were about to bounce straight out of your shocks."

"Maybe you don't know better, Ethan," VB muttered in an uncharacteristic manner, an overwhelming jealousy suddenly taking over.

"You know, you and Brad used to be such great friends. Now you'd practically shred his cylinders out from under his hood and gouge holes in all four of his tires. And all for a girl? You're better than _that_ VB."

"Emily liked me, Ethan," said VB. "And I did nothing to make her change her mind." VB felt Emily tense up next to him, but he kept going. "And though that F-250 may seem better than me, my engine is just as strong. I've got a V8, and I could crush you like an old chain fence, Brad!"

"I'd like to see you try," snarled Brad. "But I doubt it'd be fair if your tires won't spin because your diff is so rusty!"

"Shut up!" VB yelled, regaining his noisy character.

"At least my owner cares for me, VB."

"Are you saying my owners don't care for me? I'm happier with them than I've ever been and no rusty diff can slow me down!"

Brad grunted, but had no desire to continue with the argument, and instead went back to talking with Emily.

Ethan regarded VB. "Anything new going on VB?" he asked. "And by that I mean positive things."

"Well...I _did_ talk to a Camaro at Memorial Park last weekend," VB said. "Camaros are nice cars — for Chevys. He said he liked Knight Rider, and that's my favorite show."

Ethan chuckled. "See?" he muttered. "Thinking of things apart from...you know... _her_...it helps you out."

"Brad's still a grime-grill."

"So, VB, what year was the Camaro you met at the park?"

"2010," answered VB. "And he was red with black racing stripes."

"You know, VB," said Ethan, thinking deeply. "Years ago, my owners used to have a Camaro."

"What year was the Camaro?" VB asked.

"1999. A Z28, too. His paint was jet black. Boy, my owners would flip if he got so much as a speck of dirt on him. He was a very nice car, though. Chris was his name. What a speed demon that car was!"

"Hey, I'd challenge any Camaro to a race!" yelled VB. "My speed meter might only go up to 100, but I bet I could go way over that! I'm telling you, Ethan, I may weigh over four tons, but I could speed the tires off a Corvette Stingray if I wanted to!"

"Not that I agree with you, but, if you _could_ go that fast, the slightest turn would send you toppling over. Vans tip over easy, VB, no offense."

"Ethan!" VB scolded. "You're ruining my awesomeness! At least I'm not a fifteen passenger van. They have too much weight behind their rear axle, especially when they're fully loaded. I'm telling you, Ethan, too much weight behind that rear axle and they're going down!"

"I'm sure, VB, but you've got three seats behind your rear axle and-"

"Four seats, actually, Ethan."

"Okay, you've got four seats behind your rear axle and some trunk space. Plus I bet your owners load you up good when you vacation with all those kids."

"My owners drive well!" VB snapped.

"I wouldn't doubt that, VB. But I once knew a pretty 2011 Hyundai Elantra who had a bad...smash because of her owner."

"A pretty Elantra?" VB snorted. "There isn't such thing! I have to deal with a crabby old one almost every day! Anyway, what happened to her?"

"Her owner, who's my owner's son, had just gotten his driver's license and he was taking her to pick up a few things at the store. Now, this was a couple years back, so, at the time, the Elantra was brand new. And, it was dark outside; it was night. So, on the way to the store the idiot was looking at his phone and missed a turn. He drove the pretty little car right into a traffic pole! I don't know about you, but I think it's times like that when you _have_ to interfere."

"What happened to the poor car?" asked VB. "Not that I really _like_ Elantras."

"You should have seen it, VB. It was awful. The whole right side of her face was smashed. Her headlight was so shattered that it had to be taken out and replaced!"

"Oh, wow," VB mumbled. "That must have hurt. Especially the part when they took out her headlight."

"She told me it was terrible. Worse than we can imagine."

"Have you ever been in an accident, Ethan?" asked VB.

"You couldn't really call it an accident, Vanne, but once I was scraped good by a passing car in a parking lot."

"I would've driven right over and bashed the car in seconds!" VB exclaimed.

"Don't even think about interfering, VB. It's on your engine far too often. Besides, it wasn't the car's fault. She apologized to me and said that her owner was old and had difficulty seeing."

"Well, then, maybe her owner shouldn't be driving," VB snorted. "What kind of car was she?"

"A 2013 Honda Civic with pearl white paintwork."

"Hmph," grunted VB. "I really would've showed her who's the boss!"

"VB!" Ethan snapped. "You can't hurt a girl! Especially not one who's a third of your size! One of these days, VB. One of these days you'll get what's coming to you. And, trust me, it'll be much worse than a big scrape."

VB was quiet. Why did every car assume he'd get into an accident?

"My owners know how to drive," he stated confidently.

"Maybe," replied Ethan. "But _you_ don't."

"Yes I-"

"VB, it takes the work of a smart car and a smart driver to stay out of accidents."

"A Smart car, are you kidding me?" asked VB. "They're so tiny I almost hit one once with my old owner. We took a sharp turn and the thing came zooming out in front of us, right past a red light! My owner slammed on my brakes just in time and it _hurt._ "

Ethan chuckled. "Interesting story, VB, but I didn't mean a Smart car. I meant a car who's smart. An intelligent, cooperative car. You know?" _Unlike you,_ he wanted to add.

"Oh, of course," VB answered, slightly abashed.

"What I meant was, a car and their driver must work together. If a car sees that they're about to hit something, then they've got to interfere. And if something jumps out in front of you, your owner's got to slam your brake as hard as he can, no matter how painful it may be. By the looks of you, VB, you'll be feeling much greater pain than your brakes slamming later in your life."

VB sighed but said nothing. How could a car think that of him? Besides, if he ever did get a scrape, he could handle it. He remembered the time he had needed three of his tires replaced. It was painful, but he had handled it well, especially considering that he had been young at the time. So, why should he take seriously what Ethan had to say to him? The SUV, no matter how experienced he was, could _not_ predict the future, much less VB's future.

Hours went by quickly as the cars talked in the parking lot. VB still disagreed with Ethan. He would never get into an accident. He would always be careful on the roads, and try not to interfere. Somehow, though, VB could not make that promise to himself, and he much preferred nobody bringing up interference at all.

A van drove into the parking lot during the end of VB's owner's work hours. She caught his attention as she parked near him. VB looked at her intently as her owner left, acknowledging quickly that he had never seen her before. Her paintwork was bright red, and she looked around his age, maybe slightly older. She was a Ford E-150 van, looking a lot like VB except that she was smaller and red with a black bumper and grill. There was also black plastic surrounding her headlights.

"Hello," she said, a happy tone to her voice.

It took VB several seconds to realize that she was saying hello to him, and, when he did, he quickly responded. "Hi. What did your owner come here for? I don't think I've ever seen you around."

"Oh, I've been here a few times," she replied. "My owner works for a company, and he comes here to get supplies."

It was then that VB realized she was a cargo van, not a passenger van like him, judging by the lack of windows on her sides.

"Now, tell me, how many girlfriends have you had?" Ethan cut in teasingly, loud enough for the new van to hear, much to VB's embarrassment.

"Quiet, Ethan!" he snapped, his shocks shaky with abashment. "She isn't my girlfriend!" He turned back to the van. "I'm sorry," he mumbled. "So, what's your name? I'm VB."

"VB?" she asked. "I like it. What does it stand for?"

"Vanne Boss," he replied. "And you still haven't told me _your_ name."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. It's CV."

"CV?" he asked. "Your name is two letters too?"

"Yep. So why does _your_ owner come here?"

"He works here," VB answered. "I drive him an hour here and an hour home every work day."

"It gets tiring, doesn't it?"

"Yes, but it's something to do. I like it. Besides, every car needs something to get their pistons pumping once in a while."

"Yeah, but every work day?" CV asked. "Oh, never mind. What year are you?"

"2011," he replied. "And you?"

"2012." Her tone was increasingly happy.

VB could not help but be happy as well. Something about CV made his axles tingle and his transmission jutter. He didn't even know the van, but he felt he knew her as well as he'd once known Emily, and her shining red paintwork gave him the same feeling of pleasure.

"When will you be back?" asked VB.

"Maybe in two days," CV answered. "Unless my owner decides to drive Luke her instead, which I doubt he will."

"Who's Luke?" VB asked, a tad suspicious at CV's mention of a male name.

"He's my owner's other car. The one he takes out when he wants to go for a joyride," explained CV.

"What kind of car is he?" asked VB.

"A 2010 Lexus LS 460," replied CV. "He's my boyfriend."

VB felt as if his cylinders had dropped from his engine and fallen into the hard pavement below. He was speechless.

When it was time to leave, VB did so eagerly. What kind of engine-crazed van would choose a sedan, and a Lexus out of any, over another van? Was everything everyone had been telling him about vans and cars correct? Did two vans really not go together well?

As his owner backed him out of the parking lot, Brad caught VB's headlights, a teasing look on his face. VB knew exactly what the truck was thinking. He knew that VB had been granted no success with CV, and he had taken Emily, so VB had nobody now. Anger tensed through him as his owner shifted his gear into drive, and he suddenly felt the overwhelming urge to smash Brad until he tipped right on his side.

 _I have to do something,_ thought VB. _Since when was interfering so dangerous?_

And, with all his force, he swerved his front tires to the left, heading straight for Brad.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Another Car

When six o'clock neared, Matt awaited VB's arrival impatiently. Time went by, and with every minute that passed, he grew more and more anxious. The seconds felt like minutes; the minutes felt like hours as they went by slowly. Matt grew more and more worried. He had an odd feeling deep within his engine that something had gone wrong.

Matt could remember very well how VB always spoke of Brad as a great friend in the past, but now he hated him to death. VB was the kind of car who didn't care about hiding his feelings, and wouldn't mind showing them to the world. This aspect of his behavior made it very easy for Matt to always understand what was on his mind. Ad, what had been on his mind the night before wasn't a wire-width short of pure revenge. Someone like VB, who packed as much punch as he did, with his powerful V8 engine and his large size was a fair match for Brad. If things went on this way, neither VB's nor Brad's paintwork would be left unscratched.

It was then that Matt realized that VB was running late. It was twenty minutes after six, and, in Matt's memory, VB had never been this late for no reason before. The SUV tried to tell himself that the van was probably stopping at the store so his owner could pick up a few things, but somehow he felt wrong.

Suddenly, Matt heard the familiar rumble of VB's engine drawing nearer. The van soon appeared, turning slowly up the driveway.

As his owner turned him around, Matt tried to search for any distinguishing markings that showed he had been in an accident. He could see nothing unusual. Maybe, VB _had_ gained some common sense and not gone after Brad after all.

"Hey VB," said Matt.

"Hi Matt," VB answered as his owner walked in.

"So...what happened at work?" Matt questioned, his tone growing wary. Since when was VB this silent?

"Nothing you'd care for, Matt. Brad and Emily came, and I just ignored them and talked with my friend Ethan."

"Well, that's good to hear," Matt responded. "Is...that all? You seem...troubled."

"No, not at all," replied VB, wishing that Matt would just leave him alone. He knew the SUV only wanted to make him feel better, and he wasn't at all angry with Matt. He just didn't want to be bothered.

"VB," Matt said again. "You know, if something's wrong, you can always tell me. I-I know I'm not that older than you, but I _have_ been through a lot." He paused, feeling uneasy. "D-did something happen, VB?"

"Maybe...I mean, no, definitely not. I'm fine, Matt."

"I know something happened, VB," said Matt. "And you're _not_ fine. I haven't known you for that long, but I've known you for long enough to know how you act when you're fine."

"Alright, I'm not fine!" VB yelled. "I'll tell you that much."

Matt shuddered at VB's sudden anger. "VB?" he asked silently, not wanting to frustrate the van any more. "Does this have something to do with Brad?"

There was a long silence that seemed to stretch on for hours, although it only lasted a minute. Despite the fact that VB was parked a little over a car width away from Matt, the Santa Fe could feel his tension. It seemed to take all the van's composure not to shudder out of his shocks. Regarding him more closely, Matt could see one thing reflecting darkly in his headlights: pain, and not only pain, but the pain of guilt. Finally giving in, VB answered. "Yes," he muttered dryly.

Matt had known all along. VB had interfered, and something had happened. Now all he had to do was get the truth out of this van. Normally, he wouldn't have to ask, but now, judging by VB's distortion, he would have to pry the truth from him like a thumb tack from his tire. This was _not_ going to be easy. He decided to start it off lightly.

"When did this all start, VB?" Matt asked, trying to get the van pour out the story like gasoline from a pump.

"W-when Brad first came, he was being stupid!" VB yelled, obviously taking out his frustrations on Matt by raising his voice.

Luckily, Matt didn't mind, and continued to encourage VB. _"How_ was he being stupid?" the SUV asked.

"He said – he..." There was a long pause. "I don't know."

Matt could not help but repress a laugh, but then got back to the seriousness of the matter. If VB's memory was this bad, then how could he remember what had happened and relate his story? He soon figured that it must not be so bad, because, if VB remembered what had happened well enough to be shaken out of his shocks by it, he should be alright.

"VB," said Matt with an impatient sigh. "Just tell me what happened.

"When Brad first came, he was teasing me, so I talked with Ethan. It was all good for a couple hours; nothing bad happened, and me and Ethan ignored Brad and Emily."

"That's good," answered Matt.

"Yeah, well, it doesn't stay that way."

"What next?" asked Matt.

"Well, there was this pretty E-150 van who came, and I was talking to her. I was just beginning to like her when she said she had a boyfriend! And a Lexus PF 450 or something."

"Don't you mean an _LS 460_?"

"Yeah, but PF suits him better."

"Why's that?"

"PF is for poop-face!" VB shouted. "So, anyway, my owner came and we were pulling out. Brad made a dirty look at me. I _had_ to do something!"

Matt gasped. His fear had been confirmed. VB had interfered!

"VB!" he scolded. "Why?"

"That look he gave me made me mad as scrapyard, Matt. And, I'll tell you what I did. I...Matt...I interfered."

"How, VB?" asked Matt. "That's all I need to know." The SUV tried to have patience with VB, but it was wearing thin like a burning tire.

"When Brad looked at me like that, I-I turned my front tires and made right for him! Right before I touched him, my owner slammed my brakes. That hurt really bad! He asked what was wrong with me but I didn't know what to say. That was the worst pain on my brakes I've ever felt, Matt."

"Hitting Brad would've hurt much worse," said Matt. "You know, you shouldn't be so upset. At least your owner stopped you in time."

"I know, Matt, but it was all my fault. My owner saved me. I was being _stupid._ If it wasn't for my owner thinking quickly and acting quickly, we'd probably both be dead. Ethan told me that cars and their owners have to work together on the road, and always look out for each other. I wasn't looking out for my owner, Matt."

"Ethan was right, VB. Now, I do like you, and you're the best friend I have, but you _deserved_ that pain you felt on your brake and maybe even more."

VB felt ashamed. "I know, Matt. Now I feel like my owner won't drive me anymore. And it's all my fault." He paused, thinking. "Ethan said told me I'd get what's coming to me and I'd get into an accident. Do you think...that was the accident? No more now, right?"

"I hope not," Matt muttered. "Smarten up and you'll definitely never get into an accident.

"Okay. I'm going to sleep now. Today's been a hard day for me."

"I can understand, VB. I'll talk to you in the morning."

That night, a deep rumbling awoke VB. The bright glare of headlights suddenly blinded him for half a second. A small car, deep, jet black, parked not far from VB and Matt. A man left his seat, then quickly walked up to the front of the driveway where a friend in his truck awaited him. They drove off speedily.

"Wow!" VB exclaimed. "Wake up, Matt, it's Kitt from Knight Rider!"

The car, a 1996 Chevy Camaro, did look somewhat like Kitt, and it was hard to tell in the dark.

To VB's annoyance, Matt hadn't woken up. He spoke to the Camaro instead. "Are you the real Kitt?" VB asked.

"No," replied the car. "I'm a Camaro, not a Firebird. And my name is Cameron."

"My name's Vanne Boss, but my friends call me VB."

Cameron acknowledged him with a tired grunt.

"So, where did you come from? Did your owners just leave you here because they didn't want you anymore?"

"I've seen you before," Cameron said, ignoring VB's question. "Remember when your owner drove you to that car dealer?"

"Yeah. I thought for sure I'd be replaced-"

"Well you have been. _I'm_ his work car now."

"But what about me?"

"You can go out with my owner's wife and the kids. You look like you were meant to be a kid-hauler anyways." He paused to cough. "Now will you let me get some sleep? I'm tired."

"Okay. Goodnight Camaro!"

"It's _Cameron,"_ he corrected.

"Goodnight Cameron."

Early the next morning, VB awoke both Matt and Cameron.

"Oh Camaro!" he yelled. "Wake up! You don't wanna be late for work, do you?"

"I'd prefer it to listening to your screaming," he groaned drowsily. "I've only been here a day!"

"Sounds like somebody woke up on the wrong side of the parking lot. That's okay, Cameron, going to work will cheer you up, it always cheers me u -" he cut off the thought directly. "Never mind."

"VB, do you have to start so early?" Matt grumbled as he awoke. Honestly, who are you talking – who's this?" he questioned, regarding Cameron.

"Oh, that's the Camaro, he moved in last night; he's my owner's new work car, but I forgot his name."

"It's Cameron," said the Camaro.

"He's grumpy, you better not bother him," said VB.

Cameron heard but didn't react.

"Okay..." said Matt. "Anyway, there's something I have to tell you later."

"A secret? Can you tell me now?" VB yelled gleefully.

"Later," Matt replied, regarding Cameron.

Cameron left shortly, secretly glad to have a break from VB.

"Goodbye you little black rust-bucket!" VB hollered playfully as he left.

"Don't be disrespectful, VB," said Matt.

"But he _is_ a rust-bucket. I saw underneath him. It's like a scrapyard under there."

"VB," Matt sighed. "Have you got no respect whatsoever? You shouldn't be _looking_ underneath him."

"I wasn't trying," VB insisted.

"Anyway, I can tell you what I was going to tell you earlier."

"What is it?" VB yelled excitedly.

"Hold your horsepower. I need to ask you something first."

"What?"

"Could you...maybe...become friends with Brad again?"

"No! And I'll never see him anyway now that Cameron's taken over my job!" Suddenly, a rush of thoughts entered VB's engine. It was just yesterday that VB had tried to interfere. Wasn't it odd that he had bought the Camaro immediately after that? "Matt?" VB asked.

"Yes?"

"My owner only bought Cameron because I interfered yesterday. Now he doesn't trust me."

"VB, I'm sure that's not true. Besides, according to Cameron, your owner was planning on buying him _before_ you almost killed him – I mean, before you interf-"

"See, Matt? Even you think that I came way too close to killing him that day."

"Yes, VB, and it was a mistake. We all make mistakes. That's how we learn."

"Okay. Now can you get on with whatever you wanted to tell me?"


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7: The Sneak-Out

"It happened a year or so ago," said Matt.

"What did?" asked VB.

"What I'm about to tell you."

"Oh, okay."

"Anyway, me and my owner were out for a drive. I can't remember where we were going. All I can remember was that a deer ran across the road in front of us. My owner swerved to avoid hitting the deer, and I went headfirst into a stone wall."

VB gasped. "I never would've guessed that!" he exclaimed.

"I wasn't hurt as bad as I would have been had I hit the deer. Anyway, what I'm trying to say, is, you shouldn't feel so bad about what happened to you. Because, to be honest, nothing really _did_ happen thanks to your owner. Anybody can make mistakes, VB, and everybody does."

"But that wasn't your fault, Matt!" VB protested. "You weren't _trying_ to hit the wall! And I was _trying_ to hit Brad, whether I hit him or not. There's a big difference."

"I know I wasn't trying to hit the wall, VB, but I guess I wasn't trying hard enough _not_ to, either. Be happy that you're okay. What's important is that you remember not to do anything like that again."

"I won't, Matt. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize to me, Vanne. Save that for your owner." He paused. "So, VB, do you feel better about it now?"

"Well, I-I guess so." He sighed. "And I guess I won't have any problems anymore now that I don't go to work."

"Well, _please_ , VB, no matter where you are, try not to put you _or_ your owners in danger. You're my friend, and I wouldn't want to see you hurt."

"I understand, Matt," he replied.

Months went by. Everything stayed the same. In October, VB took his owners out for Halloween, and, in November, Thanksgiving. Pretty soon, it was the first of December, 2014. That was VB's birthday.

"You _do_ know today's my birthday, right Matt?" VB asked.

"Oh, is it? I'm so sorry, VB, I forgot. You're how old? Four, right?"

"Yep."

Four years old for a car was about twenty-four years for a human, which made VB a young adult.

Cameron was at work at the moment, but VB couldn't wait until he came home. He had promised that he'd remember the van's birthday because of how often VB was reminding him of it.

At work, Ethan yawned, bored of listening to Cameron's conversation with Brad several parking spaces away. He rolled his tires back and forth uneasily. Life at work _was_ boring without VB. The parking lot just wasn't the same without his boisterous laughter and happy jokes.

 _I really miss him,_ thought Ethan, _and the worst part about it is that I don't know when I'll see him next._

Winter was coming, and Ethan was looking forward to the snow (something he'd never done in all his life) so VB would have to work instead of Cameron. There was no way that low sports car could make it through even two inches of snow.

The voices of Brad and Cameron came back to him.

"I'm going to marry Emily next summer," said Brad.

"Really?" Cameron asked.

"Yeah," said Brad. "We've thought a lot about it."

"You gonna have kids?"

"Yeah, maybe one or two."

"I've got six and they're all grown up, but they were a tire full when they were young."

Listening to the low hum of traffic on the busy road not far from where he parked, Ethan found himself falling asleep.

Back at home, VB awoke late that night to the deep rumbling of an engine. _Another Camaro?_ He thought suddenly.

No, this wasn't another Camaro, it was _the_ Camaro, Cameron, and he was going out somewhere. It seemed odd for his owners to have something to do this late; usually they were all settled inside, probably sleeping.

That was when VB realized that Cameron was driving without a person!

"Camaro!" he yelled.

Cameron halted in his tire tracks.

"What are you doing this late? Don't you know you'll be spotted?" VB asked.

"Mind your own business," said Cameron. "You'll wake up Matt."

"Wake up Matt?" asked VB. "Oh, thanks for reminding me!" he yelled.

"Shhh!" Cameron snapped.

"MATT, WAKE UP, THE CAMARO'S TRYING TO SNEAK AWAY!"

"VB, shut up! It's a miracle he hasn't woken up by now." Cameron drove closer to VB, opening a door so it covered his front bumper. "Keep quiet."

VB tried to mumble a reply, but couldn't speak with Cameron's door covering his mouth.

Cameron slammed his door shut. "What is it, VB?"

"I promise to keep quiet, but only under one condition."

"What's that?"

"If you'll help me start my engine with my spare key and let me come with you."

Cameron grumbled with annoyance. If anybody could and would ruin his night away, it would be this big dirty-mouthed mess of a van.

"Fine, you can come," said Cameron. Secretly, though, he planned to distract VB and send him back home. Or anywhere where he wouldn't bother him.

"Thank you so much for letting me come along with you, Cameron, you're such a good friend," VB was saying as he followed the old Camaro down the road. "So...where are we going?"

"You'll see," said Cameron.

"Why are you stopping?"

"Red light," he briefly explained.

"I don't see a...oh, now I do, never mind. That's the first thing I learned in driving school was to stop at a red light. But...I'm colorblind so red and green look the same to me."

"So, how do you know when to stop?" Cameron asked.

"Easy," said VB. "When the top lights up it means stop, middle is slow, and bottom is go."

"Did they teach you how to shut up in driving school?"

"No...Is that bad?"

"Even I learned that!" said Cameron.

"Teach me," said VB.

"All it involves is not talking for any reason at all."

"Even if there's an emergency?" VB asked.

"Emergencies for you involve insects being killed in your radiator, so no."

"Don't tell the police that I killed the bugs! I wasn't trying!"

"I thought I just taught you how to shut up. Now do it."

The light turned green and Cameron sped off impatiently. But, VB kept up, much to his annoyance, mainly because of the slow car in front of him. If he could just pass this car, he'd be separated from VB and his problems would be over.

 _A Toyota,_ thought Cameron, _how typical. And a rust-bucket of a Corolla, too. She better speed up!_ Cameron acknowledged the fact that he was older and rustier than this car, but at least he didn't drive fifteen miles an hour like most old cars. Suddenly, he had an idea.

"Hey, Vanne," Cameron said. VB did not reply. "VB! When I said to shut up, I didn't mean forever! You can talk now."

"Oh, thank you, Cameron. What is it?"

"Why don't we switch places?" he suggested. "That way you can show me how good you are at driving. Okay?"

"Okay, Camaro, but I don't know where we're going. How will I lead, unless you tell me?"

"Just follow the Corolla in front of me," said Cameron.

"B-but I've got cars behind me. And there's a ton of cars coming from the other direction. We shouldn't do dangerous things like that on a busy road. Besides, it's against the law, if I learned anything in driving school. And," he continued, "you can't make me."

Cameron didn't reply. If VB wanted to be stubborn, let him be. He'd find one way or the other to get rid of him.

"Why are we stopping here, Camaro?" VB asked at one point. "This isn't a red light."

"I have to talk to somebody. You stay here. I'll be right back." Cameron sped down a dark driveway.

"No, don't leave!" VB insisted, making sure to keep his headlights on.

He looked around. The roads had gone silent, and he couldn't hear a sound. Suddenly, a dark cloud covered the full moon.

"Cameron?" he asked. "Are you still there?" He couldn't see where Cameron had gone from where he sat, because the driveway led behind somebody's house.

That was when a car drove out of the shadows. At first, VB thought it was Cameron. No, it couldn't be; this car was small, and silver – suddenly, somebody tapped his rear bumper. He whirled around as fast as he could.

"Cameron!" he snapped. "Don't do that; you scared me! And who is he – I'm sorry, _she_." VB now realized that the other car was a girl, the same year and model as Cameron except she was silver with a convertible top.

"VB, this is the part of the trip where you leave," said Cameron. "Go back home."

"Who is he?" asked the second Camaro. "And why is he here?"

"It's a long story," Cameron replied. "But, basically, he said he'd tell that I was sneaking away if I didn't bring his bumper along."

"Oh." The other Camaro seemed to have a neutral opinion on whether VB came along or not.

"Now, VB, go home!" snapped Cameron.

"You send me home at the best part? I don't think so! Now I know who she is. She's your girlfriend, and you're on a date."

"No, actually, she's my wife, but that's not the point. The point is that you need to get back home. _Now._ "

"Just take him along," said Cameron's wife, whose name was Catherine. "I don't care."

When Cameron, Catherine, and VB arrived at the as station, just by chance, Brad and Emily were also there. That was no problem for Cameron, because he had nothing against Brad, but, for VB, it was a different story. He was beginning to wish he'd stayed home altogether, because just seeing Brad made him want to smash right into him.

"You brought a rust-bucket and not a girl?" Brad asked Cameron when he saw him.

"I _did_ bring a girl," said Cameron. "And I had to bring the white rust-bucket too, or else he'd tell."

"Good thing you brought him," said Brad, "because I'm not finished with him yet."


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8: A Crazy Night Out

Brad drove closer to VB, shoving his front tire against the van's front right rim.

"Stop, Brad!" VB protested as the truck scratched his rim. "Camaro, don't let him do this!"

Cameron felt helpless. Really, there was nothing he _could_ do to stop Brad from hurting his friend.

"I'm just going easy on you, scrap," Brad growled. "I don't wanna get scratched or dented. Oh, wait, it doesn't matter, because I know my owners will fix it."

Brad came for VB again, but, this time, the van made a sharp turn out of his way. Brad turned around, heading for him even quicker this time. VB flung his door open swiftly, and Brad slammed on his brakes right before hitting into VB's door. Luckily, he just tapped it, but he still felt dizzy after being hit on the head. VB closed his door.

"Has anybody ever warned you not to mess with a van, Brad?" VB asked.

Brad just growled. He sat there, catching his breath, making it look like he had given up. Then, he charged for VB again. This time, VB had no time to react, and was hit directly in the tailpipe. Brad escaped with only a scratch.

"Oww," VB moaned, pulling away. "Okay, Brad, you win."

Searing pain pulsed through VB and he quickly backed into a parking lot away from the gas pumps. Satisfied, Brad went to join Emily.

Cameron and Catherine drove over to VB.

"Are you okay?" asked Cameron.

"Noo," he groaned.

"Did he scratch you?" Catherine cut in.

"Just my rim, but that's not the part that hurts," VB answered.

"Then where are you hurt?" Cameron questioned.

"You don't wanna know," VB replied.

"Oh. I see."

Catherine backed up a bit, and Cameron soon followed her back to the gas pump.

As VB sat alone, not daring to move in case Brad attacked him again, a red van pulled up beside him. VB tried to mind his own business, but he couldn't help but recognize this van. It was CV!

"Hi VB," she said. "You're out late."

"Hey CV," VB replied. "Yeah, my Camaro friend brought me on a trip. I said I'd tell that he was sneaking out if he didn't let me come along."

"You don't seem very happy about that."

"I'm not. The Camaro doesn't really want me here, and neither does the F-250. Today's my birthday, and it's the worst one yet. Nobody wants me around."

"Happy birthday, VB. _I_ want you around." She smiled at him. "Remember I told you about Luke, the Lexus LS 460?"

"Yes," sighed VB.

"Well, I'm just done with him. He's too old to understand me. I snuck out tonight to be alone, but I'd much rather be with you."

VB smiled. Was CV trying to say that she _loved_ him?

"Um...my parents will be expecting me on Maple Street sometime tonight. I always go to see them on my birthday Today's not my _real_ birthday, but this is the day everybody's always celebrated it. D-do you wanna come along?"

"Do I, VB? I'd love to! Thank you so much! When are you going?"

"Anytime," VB answered. "Now, I guess."

"I'll follow you."

VB started up his engine. "Meet you back at home, Camaro!" he called as he started to drive.

 _Finally,_ Cameron thought.

VB drove off, CV behind him. He could tell that she was a much different girl from Emily. CV liked him for who he was, and she knew who he was. Emily had liked him because he set the impression of being such a strong and durable vehicle. As soon as Emily had found a male stronger than him, she'd abandoned him. But, VB had a feeling that CV was better than that.

VB turned slowly down Maple Street. It was a back road, so it wasn't lit like the main roads. The overall lack of activity frightened CV, and VB could tell that she was uneasy.

"Are you okay, CV?" he asked.

"Yeah, I've just...never been down here before. It's so...dark...and there are no other cars around."

"I'm here, CV. I'm sure my parents will be waiting. My mom lives at the very end of this street. We should be there in a few seconds."

VB sped up slightly, glad when he heard CV do the same behind him.

When they reached VB's mom's house, both the vans parked on the side of the road near it.

"Mom?" VB called through the mist. "Dad? Anybody?"

"Where are they, VB?" asked CV nervously.

"I don't know. My mom's usually always here. Maybe she's busy-" the bright glare of headlights suddenly interrupted VB's words. "Mom!" he exclaimed.

"VB! You came!" cried his mother, leaving the driveway to park near him. She tapped her front bumper to his, kissing his cheek lightly. "You're such a big van now. I still remember when you were just a baby...Who's this?"

"She's my friend," replied VB.

"I'm CV," the red van said to VB's mom. "It's nice to meet you."

"Nice to meet you too, CV," said VB's mom. "My name's Ekonna." She turned back to VB. "By the way, sweetie, your dad and your siblings will be here in a little while."

"That's great," said VB.

"I haven't seen you in so long," said Ekonna. "I don't get to drive by your house daily like your father does with his bus schedule."

"I'm doing great just to let you know," said VB. "I have lots of great friends where I live and where my owner works."

"That's wonderful to hear. Why don't you two come on into the driveway; there's plenty of room."

VB and CV followed Ekonna into her long and spacious driveway just as VB's dad pulled in.

"Hey, VB!" he said.

"Hi dad."

"You're lucky the bus drivers let me off on this one, they weren't gonna give me a break, but I said it was for my son, and they agreed. Plus one of your uncles is taking my spot for the time being."

"How's everything going with them?" asked VB.

"Good. Great, actually, no problems. Who's the girl by the way?"

"She's my friend, CV," answered VB.

"Nice to meet you, CV," he said, tapping his tire against hers. "My name's Gatra."

"Hello," she replied shyly.

Gatra turned back to VB. "Wanna hit a gas station or something, kid?"

"Yes, please."

"We'll pick up your brothers and sister along the way. Come on girls, and VB, I know just where to go."

As VB and the others drove to the gas station, he couldn't help but pick up some of what his parents were saying.

"Don't be in such a rush, Gatra," said Ekonna. "This is his birthday, it means something to him, and I want to make it special. I want VB to know how much I love him."

"I'm not in a rush," Gatra insisted. "I love the kid just as much as you do."

"Don't call him 'the kid'. He's your son."

"Yep, yep. I got it."

He decided that their conversation was boring.

After that, VB, his parents, and CV went to pick up VB's siblings, Evan, Charlie, Vanessa, and Eko-Line. The rest of their night together went well, and they went to a gas station got their tanks filled up, then it was time to leave.

"Love you, son, have a good rest of your night," said Gatra. "I have to get back to work now."

"Goodbye!" VB called as his dad hurried away.

"I'm going home now, sweetheart," said Ekonna, kissing him. "I love you. Bye-bye!"

"Bye, Mom," VB replied as Ekonna drove off.

Then, he bid goodbye to his siblings, and it was only him and CV.

"Thanks for letting me come along," said CV, suddenly feeling shy now that it was just the two of them. "I-I had a great night. And you're a really nice van." Then, to VB's surprise, CV drove forward slowly, tapping her front bumper to his in a quick kiss. "When can we see each other again?" she asked.

"S-soon, I hope," VB answered. "Maybe one night next week, if I'm not busy."

"How about next Friday?" CV suggested.

"Sure."

"Okay. Meet me here next Friday, 11:30 p.m. Don't forget."

"I won't. See you then!" Then, VB turned around and pulled out of the gas station and into the open road.

 _CV does love me_ , he told himself as he drove off. _That'll show Matt_ and _Ethan that I_ can _be with another van. Actually, I can't tell them. Then they'll go around, telling everybody that I snuck out! Besides, I promised Cameron I wouldn't tell._

VB took a sharp turn, rattling the thoughts from his engine. When he wasn't deep in thought, the dark night roads seemed frightening to him, especially this one. Few cars drove by, and it was long and dark, shaded with a thick wall of trees all around it. A rusty, dark-colored Chevy pickup rattled by, not paying any attention to VB. He shuddered as the truck rolled past, wishing for the low rumble of CV's engine behind him again. Everything had looked so different with CV and his family here. Now, he realized just how terrifying this road really was.

Then, VB began to hear something behind him, like a faulty engine. He sped up slightly, adjusting his mirrors as he did so. VB hated not being able to tell who was behind him. All he could do was listen, but every time he adjusted his mirrors, the sound stopped.

Sighing, VB stopped in his tire tracks. If a car really was behind him, they'd beep their horn...or something. Minutes passed, and suddenly, the engine sound was audible again. He pulled over on the side, flashing his hazard lights.

"Whoever's back there, you can pass me," he said. "Hello? Is somebody back there?" VB knew he shouldn't do it, but there were no other cars on the road, and the engine sound was getting louder, so he took a U-turn to see who was behind him. Nobody! Nobody at all!

Cylinders pounding, VB whirled back around as fast as he could, speeding off. His quick acceleration left rubbery burn marks on the road. He didn't slow down until he reached the main road.

 _Come on!_ VB thought as he pulled up behind a slow, elderly Buick, from 1985 at least. His engine sputtered miserably, sending horrible smelling exhaust in VB's face. Driving behind Cameron, though miserable in itself, was much better than _this._ At least _he_ didn't smell like his owner had his engine mistaken for an oven. Having had enough, VB honked his horn rudely.

"Come on, make a move on, I have things to do!" he hollered. _Like getting back home,_ he added in his mind. He beeped again. "MOVE!"

The ugly old car made no response.

"I said move, or I'll smash your bumper off!"

A brand new 2014 Ford Focus entered the lane near VB, her paintwork bold nitrous blue. "Geez, you should chill out," she said.

"But he's not – I'm not – He's-"

"Talk about road rage!" she scowled. "You vans are such big road hogs."

"How dare you!" VB yelled.

The Focus giggled, taking a sharp turn that sent exhaust flying into his headlights. "See ya, road hog!" she shouted back to him.

VB sighed, but he couldn't resist turning after her, although he knew it was just what she wanted.

"No right turns in the left lane, idiot!" shouted a car from behind him.

"Kiss my bumper if you care!" VB yelled back. _That'll show him,_ he said to himself. Then, he sped after the Focus, who he knew was out for a joyride without her owners, just like him.

When VB got close, she whirled around to face him, tires screeching on the newly paved road.

"You've got quite an axle between your two back tires to chase me like that," she said. "And I like it."

"I'm not looking for a date, you know," VB quickly explained.

"Maybe you aren't, but _I_ am. I'm looking for a guy with some strength." She flashed her headlights at him. "How much horsepower you got?"

"Around 300. And I don't see what difference it makes to you."

"300? I like it. How much MPG you have?"

"Around 10 city and 15 highway, so 13 combined. And still, you shouldn't care."

"10 city? That's bad! You're a guy who's truthful about himself, no matter what his weaknesses are. Good. Very good."

"Look, you little speed demon, I'm not in the mood. But, once you find yourself a _real_ boyfriend, then we'll talk. Hopefully you won't feel the way you do about me then. Now, I have to go."

"No, no, don't go! I don't even know your name!"

"It's Vanne. My name is Vanne."

"Vanne? That's boring."

"Call me VB. Now, I have to go."

"Okay, VB. I'm Amanda. And you're not going nowhere. Guards! I have him!"

VB turned around to realize that he was being surrounded by a pack of vicious Hummers, all of them armored and sporting huge tires.

 _Oh, scrapyard no!_ VB thought, _What have I done this time?_


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Disaster

There was no escape. VB had no idea what these Hummers may try to do to him if he got too close, but, they were better protected than him, and looked like the kind of vehicles who wouldn't mind risking an injury.

"What do you guys want from me?" VB demanded.

"Nobody trespasses on our road and escapes with all four tires," said the Hummer with the largest tires.

"That's not fair! __She__ lead me here!" He looked accusingly at Amanda.

"Not __this__ road, idiot, the back road where you chickened out."

Suddenly, it all made sense to VB. This was the truck whose engine he'd heard rumbling behind him on the dark road.

"That's not __your__ road," he said. "It leads to a place where I was going. There are rules against tailgating, you know. And you've got some axle to follow me like that."

"Oh, do I? Nobody drives on __my__ road and gets past me while doing it, got that? And I saw you on the same road before that with the commercial vans and the ugly shuttle bus."

"You call __my__ dad an ugly bus? I'll show you ugly, right when I tear your headlights from your disgusting face!" VB drove forward, his tire pressing roughly against the Hummer's.

"Go ahead, dent yourself," the truck growled. "See if I care. You vans can't see behind your own bumper."

Then, VB felt a powerful force smash against his rear bumper, and he heard metal bashing and denting. But, he felt no pain. Just pressure.

Whirling around, VB saw the Hummer who'd attacked him. His whole front end was smashed.

"H-how is that..." VB began. "He's dead! I'm telling you Hummers, don't forget to wear your armor! Oh, and, sorry about your friend there, I didn't mean to-" VB paused. Everybody was staring at him in horror; even Amanda had a look of terror on her face. Then, their expressions quickly changed to anger. No, not anger, pure rage.

"I'm not dead yet," sputtered the smashed Hummer. "Kill the van! For me!"

All the remaining Hummers surrounded VB slowly. He glanced around, looking for an escape. He spun around wildly. There! There was a gap in the wall of trucks, just large enough for him to fit through.

"Floor it like you mean it, kid!" he heard somebody shout.

Slamming his gas pedal to the floor, VB sped forward, bursting through the crowd. There was his dad waiting for him, along with fifteen other buses. They now easily outnumbered the ten or so Hummers.

"VB!" Gatra exclaimed. "What the scrapyard?"

"You have to help me, Dad. The Hummers-"

"Don't worry, kid. We've got this all under control."

"It's the ugly bus!" exclaimed one Hummer.

"Say that to my face!" Gatra yelled.

"So that mess of a shuttle bus is where this kid got his wits," said the leader. " _ _I'll__ say that to your face, alright." He drove over to Gatra, almost touching him. They stood face to face for several seconds. "So this is what happens when a bus marries a van," the Hummer mumbled. "Always loyal to your precious humans, working your tires off for them all day."

Gatra's engine rumbled deeply. "We wouldn't be here if it wasn't for people," he said. "They feed us, they repair us. What more do you want?"

"Do you know what the word 'bus' stands for?" the Hummer snarled, ignoring Gatra's question. When Gatra didn't reply, he went on. "Big, ugly sucker. Now I'm saying it to your face. You're ugly, bus. A big, ugly sucker."

VB reversed into the truck, slamming him with his rear bumper. The Hummer grumbled. "Stay, out of this, van!" he yelled. "This is between me and your father. You're only a kid!"

"I AM NOT A KID!" VB yelled, hitting him once more.

"Don't hurt yourself, kid," said Gatra. "We'll all beat these Hummers once and for all. Come on, everybody, you know what to do!"

VB could barely tell what happened next, but he caught glimpses of the buses, his relatives, smashing the Hummers. The sounds of metal denting and windshields shattering were the only things that could be heard. VB stayed back from the fighting, since he was not as large and capable of defeating the trucks as the buses were.

Once all the fighting was done and over with, only buses were left standing.

Amanda sat trembling amidst the crowd, her left fender dented and scraped.

"Thank you so much Dad!" VB exclaimed. "Thanks everybody!"

"Not a problem, son," said Gatra. "But I have one question. How'd you get your-self into such a tangle?"

VB turned to Amanda. "Her!" he said. "She lead me here."

Gatra drove slowly over to Amanda.

"Don't hurt me!" she cried nervously.

"Don't worry, I won't hurt you," he soothed. "I just wanna say somethin'."

"Okay."

"You know, you're a young and beautiful car. You shouldn't get yourself into such trouble."

"I'm sorry. It's just what they told me to do," she whimpered.

"Don't apologize to me, apologize to my son over there. You put the poor kid through so much trouble, and today's his birthday."

Amanda drove slowly over to VB, trying to ignore the pain in her fender. She stopped by him, still shaking. "VB," she said. "I'm so sorry. Those Hummers are terrible. They made me do it."

"Don't you mean they __were__ terrible?" VB said. "It's okay, I'm not angry anymore. I've had a crazy birthday, and a crazy night. But now, I've really got to get home."

"So do we," said Gatra. "Have a good night son, and you too, Focus." Gatra lead the rest of the buses back home.

"Do you want me to drive you home?" VB asked Amanda. "Where do you live?"

"Um..." VB could see guilt flashing in Amanda's headlights. "I...kind of...don't have a...home. I escaped from the dealership a couple months ago..."

"Okay...well, where do you hang out?"

"I __did__ hang out with the Hummers all the time. I had no place else to be, and I didn't know it was wrong."

"Why don't you go back to the dealership?" VB asked. "You know, any dealership would take in a brand new car like you."

"I guess I __could__ go back to Bay State Ford on Route 138..."

"You're from 138? Wicked! That's where I'm from!"

"Alright, I guess I'll go now-" Amanda began.

"Oh, no ya don't! Not before I take __you__ over to Auto Zone to get that fender replaced."

"B-but I've never gone to see a mechanic before. Will it hurt?"

"Maybe a little. But don't worry. Try to __act__ as tough as you talk. The mechanics are nice, and you'll feel much better when they're done." VB tried as best he could to calm Amanda. "Haven't you had an inspection before?"

"Maybe when I was really little, but I can't remember anything."

"Okay, well, Amanda, I'm bringing you to Auto Zone, then I'm going home. I have to hurry before my owners find out that I've been gone for hours."

"Okay, I'll go. You lead the way, VB!"

So, VB lead Amanda to the nearest Auto Zone, the one off Route 44, as quickly as he could. When he arrived, the mechanics saw his several minor scratches from earlier, and offered to fix them up. VB reluctantly accepted, and thankfully, none of it took long.

When he finally got back home, it was 4:00 a.m., and he felt more tired than he had ever felt in his life. VB was glad to be back in his own parking lot, safe and happy. Cameron slept deeply nearby, and so did Matt.

"And they sleep like they'd been through a lot last night," VB muttered silently to himself. "If only they knew." Yawning, he fell asleep instantly.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Summer Arrives

That morning, VB awoke at seven to the rumbling of Cameron's engine as he left for work.

"Do you have to wake me up so early?" he grumbled.

"If I'm not mistaken, VB, you were screaming at me yesterday morning at this same time, complaining that I slept late. Have you been up at night or something?" Cameron was clearly playing dumb in front of Matt, even VB could tell.

"Um..." VB was silent. "I just didn't get enough sleep."

"Oh, well." Cameron left the driveway as his owner drove him away.

"VB?" asked Matt.

"Yeah?"

"I've known you for a year, and, even if you are up for hours at night, you still act just as awake, really early. Are you okay?"

"I'm good, I'm good," VB mumbled yawning.

"VB, snap out of it! Are you alright, I said!"

VB grumbled, wishing Matt couldn't always read his thoughts. __How does he always know what I'm thinking?__ VB wondered.

"Oh, I snuck out last night," VB began. "I got into a fight with a whole pack of Hummers, and I fought Brad from work, and I drove more than a few short miles. Now are you happy, Matt?"

Matt was just staring at him, confused. "No, you didn't, VB."

"I know, I know, April Fool's, it was all a dream."

"Oh, okay. It's December, but, whatever. You have some crazy dreams. No wonder you sleep-rev half the night."

"I sleep-rev, Matt?"

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"Sorry."

"Don't worry, VB, it never bothered me."

"Okay." VB yawned again. "Anyway, Matt, do you mind if I go back to sleep, just for a bit?" he asked.

"Not a problem," Matt replied. "Don't worry, I'll stay quiet for you."

VB sighed, falling asleep just as the sun rose over the rooftops, and he didn't awake until well into the day. After a few seconds, he realized that Matt had awoken him.

"Hey VB," Matt said. "Your owners are going to Memorial Park in a second, just thought I'd warn you."

"Oh, thanks Matt," VB replied. "But...where are they?"

"Inside...getting ready."

VB just stared at Matt. How did the SUV always know of everything that was going on? He didn't talk to VB's owners...did he? VB longed to ask him, but found that he didn't have the courage. Matt had the courage to ask VB anything, or so it seemed.

 _ _He knows me better than I know him, that's all__ , VB told himself. But, that conclusion only lead to more confusion. __How__ does __he know me so well anyway? Maybe he's just...smarter...than me. He definitely pays attention more.__ VB figured that, if it was Matt that snuck out last night, (and he probably wouldn't sneak out anyway) then he'd get himself into none of those problems. He wouldn't bug Cameron to come along to begin with. He certainly wouldn't get himself into fights, especially with former friends, like VB's former friend Brad. He might leave the house to be with friends or family, but he would never chicken out like VB did on the dark road, and he wouldn't chase after a car like Amanda who wanted chasing after, because he knew. Matt always knew.

VB suddenly felt weirded out by the Santa Fe, and felt a longing to be over at Memorial Park, where he wouldn't feel like every thought in his engine was being spied on. Maybe that's what Matt was! A spy! Was that a childish thing to think? VB had no time for that; his owners were coming outside. It was time to leave.

As time passed, time was normal for VB, Cameron, and Matt, who had begun to refer to themselves as "The Pack."

Cameron was almost always at work, and VB sometimes went to work too. Summer came, and VB's owners spent most of their time at Watson Pond, where VB never grew tired of taking them. Sometimes, he even drove all the way down to Somerset so the kids could play at Pierce Beach. And, usually at least once a week, VB went out to see CV at night.

But, one July evening, everything changed.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11: Saying Goodbye

It was July 31, 2014. Matt and Cameron had fallen asleep, and VB was heading out to see CV as he had done almost every Friday since April. It was about 11:00 o'clock at night, and he left the driveway without waking anybody up.

The roads were mostly silent as VB drove on, which was not very unusual so late at night. VB turned on his radio to lighten things up, because the eerie silence disturbed him.

It wasn't long before he found himself turning into the gas station parking lot where he always met with CV. Sure enough, she was there, in the parking lot, waiting for him, headlights aglow in the dark night.

"Hey CV," VB said.

"Hi," she replied. "VB, I can't – I have to-"

"What's the matter?" VB asked.

"Nothing," CV replied.

"Well, that's good to hear."

"It's just that..." she began.

"Just that what?" he asked. "If something's wrong, you can tell me." He paused. "I love you; you can trust me."

"Promise you won't be mad?"

VB drove closer to CV, pressing his front left tire to hers. "I'll try not to be mad, CV, but I _won't_ make promises. Now tell me, what's the matter?"

CV sighed. She looked at him. "Nothing."

"Well, come on then, let's get some gas. I'm starved."

The vans talked as they filled up on gas, and, despite the fact that CV said nothing was wrong, VB could tell something was bothering her.

"Anything going on with you lately?" VB asked.

"No, nothing."

"Is that all you can say?" VB joked. Nothing? Come on, I want to see you happy."

CV tried to look somewhere near happy, or at least not nervous, but she couldn't hide her fear, and VB could tell.

"You know, CV," said VB. "If something's bothering you, just say so." CV didn't reply, so VB went on. "One time, while my owner was leaving work in me, I did some-thing really bad."

CV gasped. "What was it, VB?"

"I-I...I interfered." CV gasped again. "I tried to crash into a stupid pickup truck...because...because he took my girlfriend. But, my owner slammed my brake, and he slammed some sense into me when he did it. Just because I did something wrong didn't mean I couldn't tell my friend Matt back home. And he made me feel a lot better about it, too."

CV looked surprised. "But VB, this isn't about me doing something wrong. I didn't do anything wrong, there's just something I should tell you."

"What?"

"Isn't your gas tank filled up by now?"

"Probably. My 33 gallon capacity never lets me down."

So, the two vans left the gas station and went to the empty parking lot of a closed convenient store.

"Now can you tell me whatever it was you had to say?" asked VB. "This is getting irritating, CV, and I need to get home soon."

"Alright," CV sighed, looking nervous. "VB," she said.

"Yes?"

"We can't be together anymore," she blurted.

"What?" VB gasped.

"Me and you, VB, this won't work out," she answered. "I mean, I love you very much, and we can still be friends, just not boyfriend and girlfriend."

"Why?" VB demanded.

"We just can't."

"Why not, CV?" he yelled.

"Don't be angry. It's because my owner knows about you, VB, he knows we've been sneaking away. He caught me pulling into the driveway one night, and I had to tell him the truth. He says he doesn't want any more vans."

"He doesn't want any more vans? What is that supposed to mean?"

"VB, if you and I get together, we'll probably end up having kids at one point, and my owner doesn't want a bunch of little vans and nothing to do with them."

"Then we just won't have any kids."

"I'm sorry, VB, I tried. I tried persuading him. And it's not easy. My owner's head-strong, VB. You try getting anywhere with him."

VB sighed. "It's not your fault, CV, and I'm not mad. But does your owner even know you're out right now?"

"Yes, VB. He told me to tell you all this. And, after today, he's taking my spare key away. Forever."

"No!" VB gasped. "CV, where do you live? I need to know!"

"He'll kill you if he sees you there, VB. I'm sorry. I can't say."

"You have to tell me CV. Please."

"I'm sorry, VB, I can't. I have to go." CV began to drive away, but VB blocked her path. "VB, let me go. I need to be home."

"Not until you tell me where you live, CV. Please. It'd kill me never being able to see you again."

CV began to drive around VB, but he blocked her path once more.

"We can do this all night if you want, CV, but I won't let you go until you tell me where you live."

"That's not for you to know, VB. I'm getting aggravated now. Let me go home, please."

"You know the deal. Tell me where you live; I let you go home."

CV sighed. _He's only doing this because he loves me,_ she thought. But she couldn't let VB boss her around. She must listen to what her owner said, not VB, no matter how much he loved her.

"VB," she said. "It's time to move on. I'm not being your girlfriend anymore. You can find another girlfriend, and we'll still be friends. Best friends."

 _Like we'll ever see each other again to be friends,_ VB thought.

"I am _not_ your girlfriend!" yelled CV. "Go away; leave me alone!"

"Fine, then, have it your way." And with that VB took off into the darkness, never wanting to even look at CV again.

 _Stupid CV,_ he thought as he took off onto the road. _Stupid everybody. I hate them all, even Cameron, even Matt. He might as well figure out that I've been sneaking out, and he can tell my owners. At least then they might sell me, and I can be far away from CV, forever._

Not paying attention, VB drove too fast over a bump, rattling his underside pain-fully.

"Stupid bumps!" he growled.

"What are you fussin' about, young boy?" asked a voice from behind him.

Just judging by the voice, VB could tell that it was a Buick. "Shut up you old fart!" he yelled, accelerating quickly and sending exhaust into the old car's headlights. "In your face, jerk!" he shouted back, glad to be taking out his anger on somebody. He hadn't wanted to take his anger out on CV, after all, no matter how much he felt like hating her, he sort of still loved her.

 _What_ should _I love her for?_ He wondered. _What should I like Cameron for? What should I even like stupid Matt for?_

 _Because he likes you, VB,_ a voice said.

"WAAA!" VB yelled, swerving to the right. The next thing he knew he was heading right for a traffic pole. Everything seemed to flash before his headlights: images from when he was young, his first day of school...school! The place where the main thing he was taught was to apply his emergency brake before he hit something – suddenly, searing pain overtook him. Images whirled around him again, this time of a bright silver car trying to help him.

"Are you okay?" she demanded. "Van!"

 _How does she know my name?_ VB asked himself. _Oh, no! She's an angel car! My guardian angel! I'm dead! I hit the pole! I killed myself, and now I'll never see my friends again, not Cameron, not Matt – Matt! He started this whole –_ Then, it all went blank.

"Van?" the voice said again. "Are you going to be alright?"

VB groaned, looking around. He wasn't outside near the pole, as he had been what felt like seconds ago. Now, he was inside a building that looked familiar. Auto Zone! That's where he was!

He turned off his headlights. Everything was too bright for him to look at right now.

Then, somebody nudged him in the side.

"Stop," VB moaned, shifting his weight to see who it was. "Do you have to bother me when I'm dead? I just want to rest."

"You're not dead, silly," said the car. "You're okay, I think. Are you hurting?"

"My body's sore, but, apart from that, it's actually not bad. And is it true that I'm still alive?"

"Oh, yes, you're very alive."

"Thanks for telling me! Who are you, by the way?" Taking a closer look at the car, VB could see that she was a Ford Fiesta sedan, colored beautiful silver.

"My name's Ruby. What's yours?"

"I'm VB. I was worried when I first saw you. I thought you were my guardian angel, come to take me away."

Ruby laughed. "So, what year are you?" she asked.

"2011. And what about you?"

"2013."

"Oh. And, by the way, I'd love to know what on earth happened to me."

"I had been driving near you since you left that parking lot all upset. I was in the lane near you, but I was scared you might yell at me like you did with that old Buick, so I stayed behind."

"Hey, I wouldn't yell at a girl. Not one like you." VB giggled.

"Well, I didn't know. You seemed really mad. Then, you looked very tired. You started mumbling things about somebody named Cameron and someone named Matt. You sounded angry at them. You looked like you were dozing off, and I wanted to wake you up, but I was worried you'd be angry. Then, you let out this yell and swerved straight for a pole. You slammed on your emergency brake just in time, and that's why you're hurting so bad. Using your emergency brake isn't good for you, you know that, but it kept you alive."

"Then what? VB asked.

"Then I got a tow truck to bring you here. It's not even a mile from where you were."

"How long have I been here for?"

"About an hour or so."

"Really? It seems like only a minute!"

"You've been unconscious."

"What are the mechanics doing to me?"

"They just checked to make sure your systems were working well. I know you didn't actually hit the pole, but they need to make sure you're okay. They're going to give you a full inspection and stuff in a couple minutes."

"I hate inspections!" VB complained.

"Why?" asked Ruby.

"I can live my life _without_ people messing around underneath me or under my hood. It's _embarrassing_."

"They're only making sure you run well. Plus, they said they'd give you a wash after and spray some W-D40 on your underside. You like washes, don't you?"

"Yeah, but do I really need W-D40? I can't see to tell if it's rusty under there, but if I wanted to be messed around with, I'd ask."

"Don't worry," Ruby said. "It's for your own good, VB."

It wasn't long before the mechanics came back into the garage to finish VB's inspection. He spoke to Ruby as they checked him, trying to focus his mid on something other than them.

"You know, Ruby," he said. "You're a very nice car."

"Oh?" Ruby responded, unsure.

"I mean, in your headlights, I was an angry, threatening big grump. I mean, not that I ever would, but, if I felt like it, I could crush you under my tires."

"So, get to the point."

"What I'm saying is – ow! Don't pinch do hard!"

"Sorry," replied the mechanic. One of the screws on your rear differential is loose."

"Thanks, I never knew that," VB mumbled sarcastically. "Seriously, all the screws on my rear diff are probably at least slightly loose. It's been a while since I've meet somebody who feels like making himself comfortable _under_ either of my axles, especially my rear."

"You don't go for inspection?" the mechanic asked.

"I do, but they rarely check my differential. And they couldn't care less anyways."

"Okay, then. Sounds like you have some lousy mechanics over there."

VB snorted rudely, causing his frame to shake.

"Easy," the mechanic growled.

VB just ignored him and focused his attention back on Ruby. "So, Ruby, I was saying, you were very afraid of me, and I seemed very mean, but you were nice enough to want to help me anyway."

Ruby seemed embarrassed whenever VB tried to compliment her. "Thanks, VB," she murmured, "I'm glad I helped you. Now I see what a nice van you really are. But why _did_ you get so angry anyway?"

"Well, my girlfriend broke up with me because of her owner. I was mad at everybody then, even my good friends. I shouldn't have been, though. A car listens to their owner. My girlfriend's owner was just afraid that we'd have kids, and he didn't want any more vehicles. My girlfriend told her owner we wouldn't have kids, but it made no difference to him, I guess. Now I can never see her again. She won't tell me where she lives, and her owner's taking her spare key, so we can never meet up again."

"I'm sorry, VB. I can understand your anger. I'm sure you'll find somebody else soon."

VB looked at Ruby. _She is kinda cute,_ he thought, _but I don't know if I can be with another girl so soon after CV left me. Besides, she probably already has a boyfriend._

"Your battery and charging system look good," said a mechanic who was looking under VB's hood.

"Yes, and it feels much better without you guys messing around like you do. Seriously, would you _please_ shut my hood now?"

"There are just a few more things we have to check, _then_ I'll shut your hood again, okay? Honestly, I haven't seen such a fussy vehicle since my grandmother sold her old Buick!"

"You wouldn't like it either," VB mumbled. "Cars have got hoods for a reason, you know."

"Yes, to protect their engines from damage such as rain, snow, sunlight, etc."

"And your prying headlights."

"They're called _eyes,_ van."

"I don't care. Rain and snow get into my engine anyway; that's why I have an exhaust system."

"Actually, that's only a small part of the reason-"

"Whatever," he grumbled. "I can't stand some people. You act like cars belong to you."

"Some do. I've got a 1999 Corvette Stingray and a 2012 Chevy Silverado. Chevys are good cars, you know."

 _That explains his stupidity,_ VB thought, _Typical Chevy owner._

"I don't care which cars you own," VB retorted sharply. "All I care is that you don't own _me_ and it's time to shut my hood!"

"Okay, okay." The mechanic closed VB's hood. "I don't know how anybody works with you. I can't imagine how bad you are at oil changes."

"My owner does it for me, and he's not as bossy as a mechanic. And much less annoying."

"Okay, then, kiddo. Now you just need a wash and you're all set to go."

"I'm no kiddo."

"Alright, alright. I swear you could argue for hours over nothing. All you Fords are the same way."

"You can kiss my bumper if you say that again."

"Okay, geez, van. Seriously, you guys are tough to deal with. Now I know what they mean when they say 'Built Ford Tough'. My God!"

VB just grunted, but stayed silent. _I won't talk at all, then,_ he thought. _That'll show him tough!_

Once VB was done being washed, the mechanics let him go. Ruby offered to drove with him part of the way home, and VB accepted.

"So," said Ruby as they drove along Route 44. "What made you almost hit the pole?"

"Oh, I was thinking. I guess I must have been dreaming. See, I have this friend named Matt, he's a Santa Fe."

"A Santa Fe?" Ruby asked. "A Hyundai, right?"

"Yeah."

"Those are nice cars."

"Yeah, well, since I was so frustrated about everything, I asked myself why I should even like Matt. And I was _positive_ I'd asked myself in my mind. That's why I freaked out when I heard a voice respond. That's when I nearly hit the pole. Was it you?" VB asked. "Did you hear me ask why I should even like Matt?"

"Not that part. You did mumble something about Matt and Cameron being stupid, but I didn't hear you say anything about not liking them. And I definitely didn't say anything to you."

"Then I had to have been dreaming." VB slowed down and put his blinker on, heading for Vernon Street. "You should be going home to your owners now," he said.

"Yeah," she replied. "See you some other time!"

"Goodbye!" VB called as he swung onto Vernon Street.

Once VB got home, he was relieved to see that both Cameron and Matt seemed to be sleeping. Now, away from Ruby, he could finally think of how disappointed he felt about CV.

"A big waste of my time," he growled.

"VB?" It was Matt. He was awake! Had he seen VB pull in? Did he know?

"Yes?" VB responded, gulping nervously.

"Is something wrong?"

"Nope. I'm just fine." _Here we go again,_ VB thought.

"You go out to see your girl?"

"Huh? What – Matt, how did you-"

"The red van? She's your girlfriend, right?"

"Matt, how do you know everything?"

"VB, you've been doing this sneaking out thing for months, and you expected me not to notice?"

"Well, yeah, you seemed like a heavy sleeper. But, Matt, how did you know about her? Did you spy on us?"  
"No, silly, I wouldn't do that! My owner goes to the laundromat on Route 44, really late, at eleven. I saw you two go past once."

"Oh. So does that mean you're telling my owners?" VB asked.

"No, VB, I wouldn't do that either. I used to have a girlfriend too when I was your age. I'm just surprised nobody else noticed."

"Well, the Camaro started this whole sneaking out thing. The first time I ever did it was last April. I knew CV from seeing her at work, and I met her again when I went out with Cameron. I've been going to see her ever since. Now, we can't see each other anymore because her owner took her spare key away."

"Well, I'm sorry about that, VB."

"That's alright. Now I really need some sleep."

"Okay. Goodnight. And, remember, VB, what I told you about vans. A van and a smaller car are better off together when it comes to marriage."

VB felt like he would burst with anger. _Seriously, Matt, just shut up about it already!_ But he was too tired to keep the anger that had just pulsed through him, and he fell asleep in a matter of minutes.


End file.
